Going Down
by Segway
Summary: Pre-war Combaticon fic. Swindle greed know's few bounds, and his recent schemes haven't just put himself in danger, but his whole team. And the one's he's scammed don't feel an easy death is a good enough punishment.


Going Down

300 years before the Great War, the city of Kaon was Cybertron's most prospering city, leading in innovation, manufacturing, and consequently, crime. Skyscrapers made up most of the city, with tunnels descending well below the surface. Kaon's sheer size dwarfed it's neighboring cities.

Casinos, shady businesses and other such places were well hidden, tucked away in the depths of the city or in random nooks and crannies of the deserted roads above. The mixed population of Deception and Autobot habiting the city made it impossible identify the criminals from look alone; a trait that led to the city being nicknamed Neutral Haven.

Down below, in a dark rundown bar, three shadowed figures stood around a table. In the center of the table lay a hologram picture of Swindle, a knife stabbed between his large optics; there was no doubt about the contents of their discussion.

Three sets of red optics stared down at the picture with disgust. Then, the first of the three looked up.

"He must be eliminated." He said.

The other two nodded, but didn't speak. Anything they said could upset their boss, especially when he was this angry.

"I'm sure the two of you have yet to hear about this…" He paused a moment to choose his words. "Problem."

Keeping their silence, they shook their heads.

"His name is Swindle." He ground out the last word. "Most of the people in this city would steal from businesses, banks, or cash registers. But not him!"

The two lackeys look at one another, not quite understanding what their boss was getting at.

"_He_ infiltrated the underground crime ring _and stole from us._" He emphasized his statement by punching a hole in the table.

"U-us, Boss?" One lackey stuttered.

"Um, how much, Boss?" The other asked.

Seething with barely restrained anger, he whispered one word:

"Everything."

* * *

Meanwhile, on a bullet train heading out of Kaon…

"Why is he so happy?" Blast off asked, indicating Swindle.

Onslaught looked up in time to see Swindle, in an unusually hyperactive state, using the chairs as a trampoline.

Vortex plopped down beside Onslaught and harrumphed.

"You yell at me when _I_ do that, Ons." Vortex complained.

"That's because he's small enough not to damage anything."Blast off answered. "And _you _tear into them with your rotors."

"Aw, come on! Nobody'd notice a few slices here and there!" Votex grinned, indicating there would be anything but a 'few'.

Swindle, having stopped bouncing, swaggered over.

"Heya! How long till we reach, um, whats-it City?"

"Tygantron City." Blast off said with disdain. "It's the city most famous for its fine and classical arts. It's in every textpad known to academics. I've only said the name ten times since getting on the train."

"But when do we get there?"

"Impatient much, Swindle?" Votex asked, leaning forward.

"A tad, you could say." Swindle answered, rocking back onto his heels.

* * *

The door shattered easily, which slightly unnerved one of the lackeys. It was the door to one of the most notorious insane asylums in Kaon. If it was this easy to break in, he shuddered to think of how easy it would be for the patients to break out.

"B-boss? Why are we here?" One lackey asked as he cut power to the alarms.

"Because I don't just want to kill him," The boss said. "I want revenge."

Their boss turned and started walking down a corridor, leaving his lackeys to follow. After many twists and turns, they arrived at the cells. After shooting out all the guards that didn't flee, they got down to business.

"Which one we gotta look for, boss?"

"I don't know his cell number." He said. "Ask for a guy named Splice."

"You got it boss.

A short period later, they found him.

Hunched in the corner of his cell, half covered with rust and a wild look in his optics, was Splice. It was hard to tell if his state was from neglect or his own insanity. A lackey keyed the energy field to his cell off.

"Splice." The boss said, stepping into his cell.

"Who?" Splice asked. "Who are you?"

"Warlord, the ruler of the underground." He said.

"What... What use? What use could I possibly have?" He asked shrinking back.

"I heard from _a friend_ that you lost your sanity to something horrendous. Problem is, he refused to tell me what it was or where it was."

"No. Not again." Splice whispered, clawing at his optics.

"You know what it is I'm talking about then, don't you."

"Nobody." He whispered, shaking his head. "_Nobody_ deserves that."

"Listen here," Warlord grasped Splice by the neck. "Just answer what it is and where it's at, and I'll leave you alone. How bout it?"

"Please, don't hurt me!"

"Then start explaining, old man."

"I-I did something wrong." Splice said. "I, and others, we did stuff we weren't supposed to. Illegal, immoral, in_sane."_

"What stuff?"

"Experimentation. We thought we could get away with it. We moved our labs onto a distant planet, far away from peering eyes."

"Experiments?"

"Yes." Splice grinned evilly. "Experiments on _live_ cybertronians. We turned them into monsters. Grotesque, alive, violent and dead inside. They were completely uncontrollable. Deadly, deadly monsters."

"And what did you do with them?"

"Nothing." Splice said, bowing his head. "We never had a chance. One of them, it mutated. It mutated without our assistance. It escaped its cell. It didn't come after us though. It went for the chemicals. I don't think it wanted to kill us right then. It had plans."

Splice stared at his hand for a moment, and then continued.

"We tried to escape. But the shuttle had been destroyed. The monster had beaten us to it. Acid, poured directly into the engine, pooling at the bottom."

"She didn't really die, you know." Splice said, changing the subject. "My collogue, whatever her name was. The monster got her with chemicals. It mutated her slowly. I could hear her screams. I could hear all of them scream."

"Would you get to the point?" Warlord yelled, getting fed up with the story.

"That planet is a chemically created pit, a wasteland of horror. Once the monsters escaped the lab, they wreaked havoc upon the planet and all the life that had already been living there."

. "I am the only one who got away with my life." Splice smiled. "But not my sanity!"

"A living pit then?" Warlord asked. "Fitting. Now give me the coordinates."

* * *

Onslaught tried to ignore it. He knew it was illogical. But with Vortex, nothing made sense. And a quiet Vortex only ever spelled trouble.

Vortex, since the beginning of their train ride to Tygantron, had sat in one spot. Something Onslaught couldn't ever remember Vortex doing of his own free will.

It bothered Onslaught, to the point he had to ask what was going on.

"Vortex." He greeted, sitting next to him. He received silence in return.

"Vortex." He said again, less greeting, more order.

"Ons. Were being followed."

Onslaught was surprised, but didn't show it.

"There are at least seven of them." Votex continued.

"It's not anyone we know?"

"No. It's not."

To Be Continued…


End file.
